


My Cousin Minseok

by luminfics, shinealightrose



Series: Round 2017 [4]
Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Gothic Romance, M/M, OR IS IT, Vaguely Historical, luminfics round 2017, some mystery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-05
Updated: 2017-06-05
Packaged: 2018-11-09 11:28:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11103642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luminfics/pseuds/luminfics, https://archiveofourown.org/users/shinealightrose/pseuds/shinealightrose
Summary: Lu Han, on the mourning of his cousin's death, welcomes a stranger to his home, the sweet yet mysterious Minseok.





	My Cousin Minseok

**Author's Note:**

> Username: anonymous until reveals  
> Prompt Number: 63  
> Title: My Cousin Minseok  
> Rating: R  
> Word Count: 11,500  
> Warnings: brief Xiulay, minor character death, suspicion of murder, a hint of sex  
> Summary: Lu Han, on the mourning of his cousin's death, welcomes a stranger to his home, the sweet yet mysterious Minseok.  
> Author's Notes: The prompt is based on the novel My Cousin Rachel by Daphne du Maurier. While I read that book over a decade ago, I have intentionally not reread it now in order to keep my adaptation as unique to me as possible. Additional warning for those who are familiar with the au: the original story includes historically accepted cousin incest; mine will not.

 

The train was late arriving.

A light rain fell steadily from gray clouds above. The wind was chill, whipping at Lu Han’s coat. His umbrella threatened to be snapped away. Lu Han shivered and held it tighter with one hand. With the other he held together the seams of his coat and regretted bringing with him the tightly bound parcel of letters which in but a moment might fall to the rain sopped ground and be lost forever.

 

 

_Dear Han,_

_No doubt you have been worried about me this past month. Well, I’m here to tell you, cousin, that you can rest at ease. It’s my own fault I haven’t written. Life here in the mountains has been too idyllic for me to stop, there is too much to contemplate. I find myself in deep meditation whenever I open the shutters and see Nature as it was always meant to be. I think I can confidently say it has been good for my health. Every day I hike five miles with my fellow sojourners. They have become my good friends, young and lively, though none of course like you..._

_I enjoyed hearing in your last letter about the puppies born this spring. Name one for me, will you, and I will greet my namesake when I return.. As for that happens, I think I shall be with you again before the winter…_

_Yixing, May 19xx_

 

 

A train whistle sounded in the distance. Lu Han stood up taller and looked in that direction. Past the station building, past the trees which framed the tracks, it could not yet be seen.

He was not alone in waiting, but though few passed through this part of the country, Lu Han recognized no one. Some carried with them luggage, prepared to board when their train arrived. Some, as Lu Han was, appeared to be waiting.

 

 

  
_Dear Han,_

_Did you receive the postcards I sent you? Aren’t they lovely? And yet they are but pictures that cannot capture the essence of what this land is truly like. Perhaps someday you will visit too. Last week I spent two nights on the peak camping with one of my new friends. He reminds me a little bit of you. You are the near the same age, I think. If you were here you might be good friends. We have great conversations, sometimes talking late into the night, and once even until the dawn…_

 

 

A particularly strong gust of wind almost sent Lu Han’s hat flying. He gripped it, and lost his umbrella instead.

“No!” he cried to no one in particular, as he lunged for it. The packet of letters threatened also to fall, slipping out of the faulty inside pocket. He caught them too before any damage was done, however, as the train whistled again for its entrance to the station, Lu Han now looked a wreck of wind and rain. The bangs of his too long black hair framed his face, dark strands across both forehead and cheek.

 

 

  
_Dear Han,_

_Summer in this part of the country is unbelievable. The weather is perfect, the view even more perfect. I think my health is improving. Tomorrow we are going down the mountain again for a boating excursion. Minseok says there is nothing better for a depressed spirit like mine but to experience this mountain’s majesty from beneath its highest peaks. The lake is said to be splendid though I have as yet only seen it from afar…_

_How is the manor? I hope you were able to deal with matters without me. But you are a smart boy, I know you are plenty capable, and I will be rewarded in my trust I place in you as my heir…_

 

 

He had left the manor long before the sun was due to arrive. The drive to the station was a lonely one, dark as the night and no moon to light the way. Lu Han had made a wrong turn in the darkness, swore, and then returned the way he’d come before he found the right lane. In the end, he was still hours too early.

 

 

_Dear Han,_

_I hope you won’t worry about me. I’ve had a slight cough this past week, but the doctor here assures me it is only seasonal and will pass soon. Minseok, my dear friend I’ve mentioned more than once, has been with me through most of it. He has been a good nurse as well, taking care of my needs, bringing me medicines and food as the doctor prescribed…_

 

 

  
Tears fell from his eyes as the train arrived around the curve. Black and imposing against its watery backdrop, Lu Han watched it with a measure of dark excitement, unsure what or who he would meet when it finally, completely stopped.

 

 

_Dear Han,_

_I tell you good news! Even as I know this may surprise you. I have gotten married! No doubt you’ll laugh to hear about this poor middle aged man’s heart, but as I had long suspected, I too was perfectly capable of falling in love… No bachelor’s heart for me after all! Minseok has been everything I never thought of finding in this life. We are already planning to return this September. I revel in the knowledge that my two favorite persons on this earth will shortly meet. Until then…_

 

 

Only once had Lu Han been on a train. It was his first and final journey, the one he would take after his parents’ death when, orphaned at the age of ten, his cousin had sent for him. Yixing was thus both a friend, a cousin, and a father all rolled into one. The reason Lu Han had for living on, even in the midst of his mourning.

Lu Han sniffed once, then hugged his coat tighter around him.

 

 

_Dear Han,_

_I regret to inform you that we will not be taking the train tomorrow. My health has taken a sudden turn for the worse. Pneumonia, as the doctor has diagnosed. Never worry though, Minseok is still with me. I already look forward to when I am well again. In the meantime, I will delight that we are still vacationing in this lovely place. Minseok has no other home to return to and is happy to stay here as long as we must remain. He has been such a blessing even in my illness._

_Please write and tell me how life is at home! I miss it more each day. Soon though! Soon I will see you again, and be able to show Minseok that no matter how beautiful this country here, none compares to the estate on which I was born!_

 

 

A grim day in which to return. So few were these days that Lu Han almost wondered if the weather mourned with him. If Yixing… if Yixing were actually returning, he might barely recognize it… But he was not. Instead, it would another person in his stead, a stranger whose first impression of the land would be of this.

The train stopped with a screech, steam billowing from its engines. Lu Han waited, tears gone and replaced only by raindrops. Moments later the doors opened. One beleaguered passenger from the first car stumbled out into the arms of a waiting loved one.

Lu Han’s passenger would not be like that.

 

 

_[Excerpt from a Doctor Kim Junmyeon, September]_

_Dear Lu Han,_

_It is with deepest regrets that I must write to inform you, your cousin Zhang Yixing, age 44, has passed away. You will perhaps think it was sudden, and indeed it was. Though I cared for him to the best of my medical ability, he was not able to recover. He spoke much of you. As his only family, I felt it within my responsibility to write as soon as possible…_

_I am deeply sorrowful. My respects to you as his cousin, and for his widower now too, Minseok, whom you will no doubt be meeting soon._

 

 

Another door scraped open as Lu Han stood alert. A figure alighted from the car, one heavy suitcase in hand. Dressed all in black, an earnest face peered out into the grim atmosphere, looking from person to person until he met Lu Han’s face.

Lu Han stepped forward and pulled out a second umbrella. The stranger smiled, sweet and anxious at the same time. Lu Han gulped.

“Kim Minseok?” he asked, though he knew already who it was.

The figure nodded and stepped onto the platform.

 

 

_[Excerpt from a Lawyer Do Kyungsoo, September]_

_To whom it may concern:_

_Though the late Yixing was in the process of discussing transfer of all his assets and estate to his now widow, Kim Minseok, twenty-five, paperwork was not completed and thus void. Only one measure of Mr. Zhang’s will was completed issuing a small allowance to Minseok forever._

_On a personal note, I shall address the next part of this letter to Mr. Lu Han, heir apparent of the late Mr. Zhang: take caution, for I feel it within my duty, though not through legal means, to inform you of certain tales which have made their way to my ears. Mr. Zhang seemed to be in perfect health for much of his time here. We had coffee together at least once a week and I thought him a great fellow. His sudden last illness struck me as suspiciously ill-timed, particularly in regards to his also sudden marriage. I may be overstepping myself, especially in regards to this letter, but I do not trust the doctors here, nor do I believe the testimony of Mr. Kim Minseok to be completely heartfelt… Perhaps I just imagine too much._

 

 

“My name is Lu Han. Welcome… home?”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The drive back to the estate was done mostly in silence. Lu Han had no skill for smalltalk, Minseok did not press him to make it. Both wore mourning clothes, and while Lu Han clutched the steering wheel and never looked sideways, Minseok hugged a small duffel bag on his lap and never let it go.

“Have you ever been to the country around here?” Lu Han asked, after more than ten minutes of silence since they had first greeted one another and began the journey home.

“No,” said Minseok demurely. “I’ve only heard about it. From Yixing.”

Lu Han bit his lip and fluttered his eyes to keep from crying.

This man, this stranger, was Yixing’s widower. The two had only known each other for a matter of months; Lu Han could only guess what they had talked about, what they had dreamed about together. In one very definite way, it was totally unfair to Lu Han that he had to now take over where Yixing could not. Yixing had been his cousin. _His_ cousin! Not the spouse of this strange man who had almost become the primary heir to an estate Lu Han considered his own.

“Yixing must have talked to you a lot about it,” is all he said, voice kept clipped and under control, as delicate as he could muster.

“Yes. He told me all about the spring, the summer, how beautiful it gets...”

Minseok’s words trailed off into nothing. He looked out the passenger side window where the leaves were decidedly dying, the trees turning brown as summer turned to fall. Winter was so close at hand.

This place would be strange to Minseok, Lu Han kept reminding himself. And so was he. Two unknown entities thrown together for what purpose of fate Lu Han could not fathom.

Why had Minseok come at all?

“I’m sorry if I haven’t prepared your room completely,” said Lu Han. He bit his lip. Knuckles turned white against the wheel. “It’s… a work in progress.”

“Oh. That’s fine, really. Seeing as how you didn’t even need to go through that much trouble anyways. It’s me who’s putting upon you so much.”

“I don’t mind.”

He did, actually. But a lifetime of manners held Lu Han back from saying so. “Another hour and we’ll be home.”

“Thank you,” said Minseok.

And Lu Han fretted, because what was home without Yixing? What was home with this stranger who had written so sweetly but a week before and asked if he could visit the childhood estate of his now dead spouse.

“No problem.”

In truth Minseok was a perfect guest. He carried in his luggage even though Lu Han offered first. He complimented the garden in front of the house, Lu Han’s handiwork; he applauded the decor in the entryway hall, not Lu Han’s handiwork. When they reached the guest bedroom Lu Han was prepared to leave him there to settle in by himself, but found himself engaged in small talk about Minseok’s childhood village as the widower shuffled about the room unpacking. Or rather, Minseok talked and Lu Han listened.

As it turned out, Minseok was an orphan from the age of ten. His parents had died abroad, and he was raised by a grandfather instead. After he died, Minseok left home and never went back.

“I’ve just been traveling since then. It’s how I met Yixing…” Minseok’s eyes turned downcast for a moment before he continued. “He talked so much about this place that I was excited for it to become my home.”

Lu Han swallowed thickly. Later on he’d regret saying it, but in the moment he couldn’t stop himself from offering, “Well, you can stay here as long as you like, until...” He left it open-ended.

The letter from the lawyer weighed heavily in his mind. But while in some ways it had opened in Lu Han’s mind every possibility for suspicion, he could not reconcile the image of his new guest with the kind who might be implicit in something… more nefarious. Because it was true, Yixing had been getting on his years. He was not ancient, but minor illnesses had plagued him for years. Lu Han was not surprised to hear of his death; grieved, yes, but not surprised.

Even though in his letters he had spoken of feeling so much better.

But Minseok? Minseok was kind and soft spoken, and sweet, a helper, or a helpmate. Exactly the sort of person Lu Han could see Yixing falling for. Lu Han watched him shuffle around the guest room with pursed lips and a crinkled brow.

“Have you any washing to do?” he asked out of the blue. “The housekeeper will be here in the morning if you want to set it aside for her.”

Minseok looked torn. “I shouldn’t like to trouble her, really. I can wash my own clothes, and anyone else’s too if it’ll help.”

“I’m afraid Mrs. Wu will insist,” said Lu Han with a tight smile.

“Will she? She sounds very sweet.”

“She is.”

For dinner that night Lu Han prepared a simple fare for just the two of them, sandwiches and some sliced fruit, and a some spirits. They ate it around a coffee table in the sitting room opposite a slow burning fireplace. Minseok tried again talking about himself, with openings for Lu Han to interject, but he didn’t. The fact that both were technically orphans gave them an eery commonality that Lu Han was reluctant to bring up.

They exchanged their goodnights and Lu Han went to bed, though he found sleep evasive. Instead he just tossed and turn, and his brain teemed with memories of his cousin: Yixing when he first brought Lu Han home, Yixing when they planted the apple trees, Yixing when he was sick and Lu Han nursed him back to health with a confidence only the young could conceive, for that was a year ago, and now one year later, Yixing was gone.

And in his place was a stranger. Minseok.

In the morning Lu Han resumed his normal activities. He woke before the sunrise, he ate a cold breakfast. He prepared a carafe of coffee, poured himself a cup, then left a note beside it on the counter for Minseok to find. He had his own work to do and an estate to tend, animals to feed. One weekend ago a storm knocked out part of a fence, so by the time Lu Han returned to the house around noon he was tired and sweaty, covered in grime, mud and leaves and completely unprepared for the vision he found standing over the kitchen counter.

Minseok had cooked him lunch.

“I know what you’re going to say,” said his guest before Lu Han could close his hanging jaw. “I didn’t need to do anything but I figured by your note you’d be back around now and since there was food in the ice box, well… here you are.”

Lu Han took slow bites of his meal while observing the other man. If the meal was poisoned, he’d go swiftly to his grave, but since there was a chance Minseok really was just a wonderful human being, he ate it quietly, gratefully.

“How about I show you around the estate?” he offered afterwards, when Minseok’s warm smiles almost settled the discomfort lodged deep in Lu Han’s gut. He couldn’t shake it, but he was finding it easier and easier to ignore it.

The rest of the week past much in the same way. Lu Han and Minseok developed an easy routine: breakfast by themselves, then Lu Han worked until noon. They ate together then went about their separate ways again until the evening where sometimes they ate meals put together by the housekeeper, or sometimes Minseok cooked. Lu Han found himself lending his guest the car on several occasions when Minseok asked if he could buy food to contribute to his stay. Lu Han watched him drive off and also return with an uneasy heart.

He sent a letter back to the lawyer who had written. He sent another one to the doctor as well, asking for further details of Yixing’s. Neither had sent a response yet but Lu Han checked the mail every day. It was the one chore he wouldn’t leave to Minseok.

By the second week it felt like Minseok had always been here. They conversed much easier about the things each of them did during the day, Minseok told him more tales from his childhood. Lu Han confessed he was an orphan and that lead them to talk about Yixing.

“He was very handsome, wouldn’t you say so?” Minseok mentioned halfway during their talk. His eyes looked wistful, but also deeply sad.

“He was… a good person,” Lu Han allowed. Talking about his cousin brought back the memories. But it also brought back that feeling that Yixing was still out there somewhere, alive and abroad, like he might return any day now and Lu Han would cheer upon his arrival, and Minseok would embrace him. The three of them might have lived happily together forever…

“Yes, yes he was also that,” said Minseok with a smile. “Handsome, and good.” His eyes swept over Lu Han in an appraising manner. “I can see the family resemblance.”

Instead of responding, Lu Han flushed. He ate the rest of his meal in a hurry then made up an excuse for some task he needed to finish before bed.

The third week was when everything changed. Because that’s when Yixing’s body came home, or at least his ashes did. With great trepidation Lu Han put on his most somber suit and stepped inside the little church building, ringed by fellow mourners and followed by Minseok. In the previous weeks leading up to Yixing’s memorial service he had tried to think about this moment as little as possible. There had been a visit from the priest, details to be arranged, decisions to be made. Only in retrospect did Lu Han realize he might have asked for Minseok’s input. He thought, however, that Lu Han had the better claim. He had known Yixing the longest; _he_ was family first. In the end, Minseok had made no move to help Lu Han sort through the matter even as Lu Han went through no pains to hide it.

“My dear, we are so sorry,” said an old married neighbor.

“Our condolences for your loss,” said another.

“Lu Han, whatever we can do for you, anything. Anything, just let us know,” said yet another.

And Lu Han accepted their grief with a proper demure smile all the while wondering when the last time these people had done something for them, or whether their words just were just that: words. Probably they had known Yixing, and thus Lu Han, for most of their lives. They had attended gatherings together for decades and sat beside one another in the pews every Sunday. They knew the facts of each other’s lives, but not their hearts. Few knew, if any, why Yixing had gone abroad, and Lu Han guessed that almost no one knew about his marriage.

Minseok sat by him the entire time, their knees jostling together, elbows touching as fellow parishioners moved about pushing them together. He didn’t cry though. He listened to the priest, he followed along with the service, he stared blankly at the casket immortalizing Yixing’s legacy, but not once did Lu Han hear his voice.

Only afterwards when Lu Han stood the church door and thanked the visitors did someone even ask who Minseok was.

“Lu Han?”

Lu Han turned with a relieved smile towards an old friend, one of a family of truly good friends and neighbors.

“Yifan. I didn’t see you earlier.”

“I came late, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, that’s quite alright.”

They shook hands and Yifan held his tightly, as if willing Lu Han to feel his sincerity. With his head bowed and bangs falling over his face he looked remorseful. “I wish… I only got home a few nights ago. My mother told me.”

Lu Han peered over his shoulder at the older woman standing in his shadow, his and Yixing’s longtime housekeeper. He smiled at her, then returned to his friend’s face. Yifan wasn’t looking back. Instead, he dropped his hands rather abruptly and he nodded confusedly to Minseok.

“I’m… sorry. We haven’t met, have we?”

Minseok stepped forward. “No, we haven’t yet. I am Minseok.”

“I’m Yifan. A friend of the family. Are you… a relative?”

“I am Lu Han’s friend.”

Minseok’s expression was unreadable. Lu Han had known him for a matter of weeks, but right then he hadn’t a clue what the man might be thinking. Since when was Minseok Lu Han’s friend? _Lu Han’s friend_ , and not _Yixing’s widower._

Lu Han cleared his throat and changed the subject, and secretly hoped the post would bring him word soon of the last days of Yixing’s life. To Yifan, however, he interjected a few mundane comments, begged him to come visit later and catch up. As soon as possible, Lu Han took Minseok by the elbow and pulled him along home. They didn’t talk because Lu Han’s head refused to quit spinning and Minseok, in all his graciousness, never bothered Lu Han whenever he looked pained. They said goodnight. The very next morning Yifan appeared in the kitchen.

“Will you explain now?” he asked.

Lu Han shook the sleep from his eyes. “Good morning. Explain what?”

In the olden days, before Yifan took a job in the big town, he had found him over plenty of mornings. It was therefore no little shock to find him now, fully dressed and sitting in Lu Han’s kitchen looking quite at home.

“Minseok,” said Yifan. He lowered his voice. “Is he not up yet?”

Lu Han shook his head. “Not usually until nine or ten.”

“He married Yixing though.”

“Yes.” Mrs. Wu had obviously told her son what little she knew. “For a few months, before Yixing… before he passed.”

He labored slowly through the rest of the story, how he had received Minseok’s letter asking to visit, how he had picked him up from the train station, how he’d grown used to his presence despite the short amount of time he’d known him. The fact that Minseok’s temporary residence was not finitely spelled out between them but instead they had an open timeline. Yifan’s eyebrows raised. Lu Han didn’t tell him about the other letters. Even still, Yifan was suspicious.

“Aren’t you going to ask him to leave sometime?” he asked.

“Sometime.”

“Just sometime?”

Lu Han hummed. He fiddled with the coffee grounds, almost knocked over a mug, all with no hurry but much trepidation.

“This is a very bizarre phenomenon,” said Yifan then.

Again, Lu Han hummed. An assent.

“You know my mother said… well, I don’t know what she found but, I found her mumbling about something. Something she found in Minseok’s room.”

“In Minseok’s room?” asked Lu Han aghast.

“Yes. I don’t know what though. She just, well perhaps I shouldn’t fan the flames. I don’t even know what I’m talking about. Either way, Lu Han, I definitely think you need to talk to Minseok, find out a little more about him and what he intends to do with himself. I’m sorry for Yixing, and I’m sorry for your sake, but whatever the tragedy, Minseok isn’t married to him any longer. He has no call to move in here with you indefinitely and cause all the gossipmongers in town to start wagging their tongues—”

“Wait, are they?” Lu Han interrupted.

Yifan frowned. “I can’t say for sure, but there’s definitely gossip, Lu Han. You, a single man living alone with another man who is not your family…”

Lu Han scowled. “There would have been gossip anyway had Yixing come home alive and married.”

Yifan agreed about that. “It caused waves enough to see him standing by you at the funeral. Regardless of what might have happened, you still have yourself to think about now. The community runs deep in these parts, and you, pardon my saying so, were an outsider once too.”

They paused only when they heard the squeak of a person’s weight descending the stairs. Minseok, awake just a little bit early, poked his head through the open kitchen door and smiled.

“I’m sorry. I’m not interrupting, am I?”

“No, no, of course not,” said Lu Han promptly. “Good morning. Come, there’s coffee already made.”

In the following week, Lu Han made no change to their situation. Each day no mail arrived was another day he could forget about everything, and another day to go on with life. More and more he forgot that Yixing wasn’t just somewhere else abroad, and he pushed aside the fact that Minseok was more than just a guest.

Perhaps this was the reason he took one day off from chores and other work and took Minseok riding instead. It felt so good, to laugh as the wind blew at his bangs, body coming alive as his muscles flexed above the horse which coursed with energy beneath him, Minseok in his peripheral grinning just as bright. He was a good rider, on par with Lu Han, as the way he kept pace soon determined. They galloped across open fields, alongside the creek, then slowed to a trot before the tree line separating their estate from the neighbors.

“There, see that tree,” Lu Han pointed out breathlessly. “Best shade tree in all the country. We can eat there.”

They tied up the horses. Then Minseok spread out a blanket, promptly plopping down on it, cheeks flushed from the exercise. Lu Han unpacked a picnic basket with sandwiches and some fruit, only mildly bruised. He tossed Minseok a canteen of water. Before he could take a sip of his own, however, he became distracted by some of it dribbling down Minseok’s chin, splattering his collar. A few droplets slipped down to the crease of his neck. Lu Han watched them disappear down the side of shirt just as Minseok’s Adam’s apple bobbed decisively. His breath stopped short.

“You alright?” said Minseok obliviously, as he put down the water.

“Yeah! Fine, just, wow, really tired. I haven’t ridden that far like that for a while.”

“Haven’t you?” asked Minseok conversationally. “I always wondered exactly how country folk like you managed to find so much to do in a day all year long, but now I’m starting to see. This place is huge. Seems like there’s always something needing doing.”

Lu Han nodded. “You’re right about that. When I was just a kid and I came here I wondered the same thing. Even with two people though there’s still so much to get done. Although for years now it’s been me primarily. Yixing stopped doing so much a long time ago, when he deemed me reliable enough to do stuff on my own. I think it really helped him, having a second pair of hands. We used to…” Minseok was staring at him, and with his gaze came a discomforting sensation that Lu Han had overspoke.

“I’m sorry, maybe I shouldn’t talk about him so much That’s… that’s got to be upsetting for you.”

Minseok hesitated only a few seconds. “No, no, it’s alright, really. I mean, you _did_ know him longer than me…”

It occurred to Lu Han that he’d never really asked how Minseok met Yixing. He knew the barest details of course. But as for why they became friends, and how that turned into romance, he knew nothing. And he was still too afraid to ask. All of what Lu Han had turned to dubbing “Yixing’s last trip” was shrouded in a shadow which Lu Han willfully accepted, because turning a light into that shadow might be painful, and everything involving Minseok was potentially risky. It scared him.

On the other hand, if he never asked then he wouldn’t have to walk that road, and Minseok would stay _just_ Minseok, never turning into that person one had hinted might know something more about Yixing’s death. Lu Han didn’t want him to be that person. Because the Minseok in front of him now was nice, and handsome, and friendly. His smile was like a child’s, but his face that of a man’s. He was well-built and sturdy, and when he yawned his whole body wavered like a sapling tree. Lu Han was used to him. Lu Han _liked_ him.

“How about we rest here a little longer,” he suggested. Both the pleasure of the outing and of his companion had been ruined, but far be it if Lu Han let that actually influence him.

Around mid-afternoon the next day, Lu Han heard the postman driving up. He was in the fields tending to an obstinate calf, his mood still sour and growing more so when he realized the mail would get to the house long before he could. He dropped the calf and started to walk. The vehicle wound slowly down the lane leading up to the house, then around the circular driveway. Lu Han sped up his walk. The front door of the house opened to reveal Minseok’s silhouette, his lithe body wrapped up warmly in Lu Han’s own coat since he hadn’t brought enough of his own. He took two steps down the small stair to greet the postman who was almost to him. Lu Han began to run.

He skidded into the house long after the postman’s car was gone. Sweat clung to his brow and his heart pumped ceaselessly fast. Minseok had dropped the pile of mail onto the table without appearing to read any of it.

“Oh, Lu Han,” he said in response to Lu Han’s frantic entry.

“Hi, sorry!” he apologized, for what he didn’t know, but if his appearance was anything to go by then Minseok looked mildly distressed. “Just, waiting for a letter… from my aunt.”

“You have an aunt?” asked Minseok, as Lu Han threw his paws into the mail.

“Well, not blood related, but, close.”

His chest heaved as he shuffled the envelopes, reading the return addresses with lightning speed. Here a letter from the bank, there a letter probably having something to do with the estate. His hand fumbled and a small stack went flying off the table. He gasped as they slipped along the tile, skittering to a stop at Minseok’s feet. _~Do Kyungsoo, 19 Square Plaza~_ read the corner of address from the second letter from the top.

Lu Han dove for it, but Minseok bent, and picked them up first. His eyes scanned the top letter without any hint of recognition but he held it out with a confused expression, as if Lu Han’s antics were suspicious.

“Here.”

Lu Han took it. “Thanks.”

“No problem.” Minseok scratched his head. Then he smiled. “I’m going back upstairs now. See you for dinner, yeah?”

“Hmm? Oh, yeah.”

 

_Dear Mr. Lu Han,_

_I was of course not surprised to get your letter of inquiry. In fact it was timely as I had already begun my own investigation, purely as a matter of interest in case one such letter as yours ever did arrive. Please note that the results of my investigation are not exhaustive but I have found several things of note which may interest you. The first is that Mr. Kim Minseok of whom you have told me, and whom I was able to meet upon one or two occasions when he was in this part of the world, is not in fact an orphan. His father died, to be sure, many many years ago, but he has a mother still living. She lives, as best I can tell, alone in a villa closer to your part of the world than to mine. The other detail I have been able to recover is that Kim Minseok has been married once before, this time to a young lady whose age was closer to his. I took interest, however, in this young lady’s state of health which all claim to have been poor. She was not a wealthy woman, but was entitled to some property dependent upon her coming of age. While I have sent further letters of inquiry, I am not yet intelligent whether this property was indeed bequeathed to Kim Minseok or if another eventuality has occurred._

_As for their time here together, Mr. Zhang and Mr. Kim’s own story, I have no more to share than you already know. They moved in the same circle of sojourners and began to see one another more and more. Their marriage was surprising, but not unquestionably so. I believe to the best of my senses that they acted fond of each other, and it’s only my perhaps overly suspicious mind that wants to put another spin on this. Be wary, still, for my intuition tells me this is not the first time Kim Minseok has acted like this to another, though it may yet be only the second time that his ploys have worked. For that intuition, I tell you proceed with caution, and keep a close eye on your house guest._

_Once again, you have my condolences for the loss of your cousin. Please note the following copy I obtained, perhaps stealthily, perhaps not, of Yixing’s medical history here._

_Do Kyungsoo,  
November, 19xx. _

 

The following sheet of paper was indeed a paler carbon copy of what looked to be doctors handwriting. Lu Han could just make out the name Kim Junmyeon near the top of the page, and his cousin’s name below that listing several maladies which Lu Han was familiar with and some he was not. Most of it was in a foreign language, including a list of prescriptions, many of which he could not read due to the doctor’s overly scripted handwriting.

Lu Han folded the letter from the lawyer and the page from the doctor and, with a hardened heart, resolved to get to the bottom of this matter soon.

Soon, of course, turned into something closer to a week later. As usual, it was easy to become distracted by Minseok’s daily presence and forget the rest of Lu Han’s unasked and unanswered questions. It was also a difficult time managing the estate in that there had been an early winter storm which left mild devastation about the place. It coincided with Mrs. Wu taking ill, and that left Lu Han with dozens of extra tasks inside and outside the house. Minseok was a vital partner in helping Lu Han keep it together. He drove or rode out with Lu Han when some task needed a second pair of hands. He kept the house clean and cooked more meals. Many a morning when Lu Han woke up, Minseok was already awake with a tray of breakfast dishes and a mug of coffee which he thrust into Lu Han’s stiff, frigid fingers along with a message of good morning and a smile.

“This is so perfect,” said Lu Han, his lips still around the rim of the cup as the first gulp massaged its way down his throat and the aroma of coffee beans permeated the air. “Please make me coffee every morning.”

Minseok laughed. “I guess I have some worthy skills after all, to make you smile like that so early in the morning.”

“Mmmm,” he hummed.

It was one thing to realize Minseok was obviously ingratiating himself with his host, perhaps so that he would not be asked to leave. It was another thing entirely to realize that Lu Han really didn’t mind.

By the time he made it into town to the local doctor, Lu Han was ready to convince himself that the whole thing was a grand gesture to rid himself of an overly skeptical mind. If the lawyer who had been the first person to put these suspicions into Lu Han’s head was admitting he had no cold hard facts other than that Minseok hadn’t been as completely forthcoming about his past, then the entire case against Minseok having anything to do with Yixing’s death seemingly fell apart.

“I just wanted to know more about this, here,” he said, pointing to the flowery lettering of the doctor’s receipt now on the desk of his own longtime acquaintance Dr. Kai.

The old man squinted and rubbed his chin. He was thrice Lu Han’s age, had probably been present at the birth of half the townspeople, including Yixing. He was still a trim old man who worked out every day and walked at least a dozen miles. Lu Han knew he could put his trust in him.

“Curious, hmm,” said the doctor.

“Is it? What is curious?”

Dr. Kai shook his head. “Yes, curious, but not completely unheard of when dealing with such diagnoses. In fact, I myself…”

Lu Han bobbed on the edge of his chair, his impatience to be done with the matter dwindling in light of this ‘curious’ observation.

“What is it?”

The doctor unfurled his index finger and laid it across the page. Lu Han strained to make out the words written there.

“This is a drugging agent, a combination of the poppy flower and other herbs.”

“Yixing was drugged!?” Lu Han bolted upright and hovered, bristling, on his hand leaning over the desk.

Dr. Kai shook his head and waved at Lu Han to sit down. “As I said it’s not an uncommon treatment for illness, especially of the kind Yixing was most prone to. It calms the nerves, helps the body to rest and heal itself. I have prescribed it to quite a few of my patients. A normal dosage does no damage. The amount listed here is well under the range which can be fatal to humans. No, I’m most curious because I had not thought the herbs used in this remedy were to be found so far afield. This Dr. Junmyeon must be someone who knows how to get the—”

Lu Han slowly sank down into his chair as Dr. Kai continued rattling off medical jargon about the transmission of knowledge he had previously thought contained only in their part of the world. Another dead end, another false alarm. Yixing’s illness was not something new or special, and the treatment was common. He felt guilt that for even two seconds he had suspected Minseok of colluding with a foreign doctor.

“I’m so stupid.” He thought of Minseok slaving away at home in preparation for the meal which he had promised Lu Han upon his return.

He drummed his fingertips on the desk as he politely waited for the doctor to finish his monologue, eyes tripping over the stack of notes in the doctor’s own hand. One in particular caught his eye, a treatment for Mrs. Wu with what looked to be same exact medication they’d been talking about.

Common indeed, he thought. He wondered how she was doing.

Two days later he came home early in the afternoon. After telling Minseok he wouldn’t be back until dinnertime, it turned out the equipment he needed to tear down a dying tree was faulty. He would save that task for the next day.

“Minseok?” he called out. No one answered. A short search proved that his guest was nowhere in the manor, and that the garage was empty. He probably went into town to pick up something from the store; it wasn’t the first time Minseok had taken it upon himself to snatch Lu Han’s keys and go on an errand. Sometimes he came home with a bag of sweets from the bakery, once it was cat food for the pile of kittens he’d found newly born in one of the barns.

Lu Han prepared himself a bath and sank happily into the warm water, muscles loosening with relief. He washed his hair, then scrubbed his feet. More than half an hour later he donned his bathrobe and padded down the hall to his room.

“Oh! Hello.”

Minseok was standing right outside his bedroom door, not touching the knob but looking like he might.

“You’re back!” He looked up startled.

Lu Han shrugged as he stepped up to his door, opening it and allowing Minseok to awkwardly follow him in.

“I saw you took the car out,” he said conversationally. Because he was halfway naked he walked into his closet to change, taking with him a pair of loose fitting trousers and a shirt. Minseok stayed by the door.

“Yes. I wanted to… mail a package.”

“A package?” Lu Han asked.

“Just some things that I owe a relative.”

Lu Han hummed. Moments later he came out, sat on the bed, and pulled on a pair of socks. The bed squeaked. Minseok stalked closer towards him looking a mixture distracted and tired. He’d never been in Lu Han’s room before. Lu Han had never been in his. This was already a new situation that shouldn’t feel so weird except Lu Han just had a bath. He was aware that his hair was still wet and his bangs were sticking to his face. Also, that Minseok was talking about relatives when he once told Lu Han he had none.

“I… I thought you didn’t have any.”

Minseok’s gaze centered on the bedside table. Lu Han glanced there, and winced. Sitting prominently on top of a stack of letters was the one from Lawyer Do.

“Lu Han, I think you already know that I lied about a few things.”

His voice stung, sad though he sounded. Hesitantly, Lu Han lifted his head. Minseok’s eyes were hidden, his head sinking towards his chest. Lu Han stood.

“You mean about your mother.”

“Yes.”

“How did you guess I knew?”

Minseok pointed at the letterhead.

Lu Han grimaced. Of course Minseok would recognize the name and address. He had met the lawyer. They had at least been acquaintances. Yixing and Minseok had met him together at least once, according to the lawyer, to discuss the inheritance status of this estate. The one in which Minseok had not been successful acquiring, where he was now Lu Han’s very own long term guest.

“Tell it to me straight, Minseok,” Lu Han demanded, very quietly. “Why did you lie about being an orphan? Your mother lives two hours away by train, doesn’t she?”

Minseok’s eyes were red. “Yes, she does. Though I haven’t seen her in years.”

“Why?”

“Because she abandoned me.”

“When?”

“When I was eleven.”

Lu Han swore. Eleven years old, and yes, even Lu Han would probably call himself an orphan too with a mother like that.

“When is the last time you saw her?”

“Five years ago, briefly. She told me to never come back.”

“And you’ve been wandering again ever since?”

“Yes.”

Lu Han closed his eyes and balled up his fists. He took one long breath before opening his eyes and continuing on.

“What about your father?”

“Dead, just as I told you.”

“Why did you marry Yixing?”

Minseok’s eyes grew wide. “What?”

“Did you marry Yixing to get ahold of this estate?”

“What?!” he repeated, entire expression now shocked and aghast. “Lu Han, I’d never! That’s not… I never had that idea… Where did you…?” He stared at the letterhead again. He looked seconds from crumbling, a whole watershed of tears just threatening to spill. He shuffled towards Lu Han and put out his hands. Lu Han caught them around his wrists just as Minseok stumbled. He dragged him over to the bed, instantly regretful as Minseok choked back a cry and Lu Han patted him on the back, now sitting side by side.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Lu Han whispered.

It took a few minutes before Minseok began to speak again. Lu Han tried to hush him.

“No, no, let me explain, please.

“I really didn’t want Yixing to change anything in his will. We had just gotten married. I think he pitied me. I had no family who would acknowledge me, little income and no property. I tried to talk him out of it. I didn’t realize at first that if he changed the inheritance, it would cheat you out of it instead. He… talked about you a lot. His favorite little cousin. I was looking forward to meeting you anyway after our honeymoon came to an end. I didn’t realize that when I did meet you, Yixing would be gone…”

He gave a great dry heave. Lu Han was glad to see that he wasn’t going to sob after all. He patted him still more on the back though, and Minseok heaved again until he was leaning up against Lu Han’s shoulder. He spoke to the floor when he continued again.

“As I said, I believe now that Yixing pitied me wholeheartedly.”

Breath caught in his throat, Lu Han asked, “What do you mean?”

“I mean I know he liked me, but I don’t know if he would have married me if he hadn’t been so… worried that I had no place to go. He knew something of my past, he also thought I was an orphan. He… knew that I had been married before. Her name was Rachel. We met as schoolchildren and fell in love. We had a long engagement. But… she died, just four months after the wedding.

“Yixing knew this too. You knew your cousin best, Lu Han, but would you consider him capable of marrying somebody he didn’t _love_ , but just _liked_ a lot?”

Lu Han swallowed heavily. Was Yixing that kind of person? Maybe he was. He had taken in Lu Han after all. But he had a soft spot for everyone he met, not just orphans. He routinely visited the elderly in town, brought them food when his gardens were overflowing, chopped firewood for them when the winter got cold. He’d raised Lu Han to be the same way. ‘When you have more than you need, Lu Han, you should always give it away. Even love, Lu Han. Especially love.’ Why Yixing had remained unmarried all those years was the only true mystery.

“I think… I think…” Lu Han wavered. “I think he might be, yes.”

What he didn’t ask was the other question he was most desperately seeking to know, a question he hadn’t realized until now was burning inside his chest. _But did_ you _love him?_

“I’m sorry, Minseok. I really am. I didn’t mean to sound so suspicious. The lawyer wrote me first. I didn’t know what to expect when you also wrote to me a few weeks later asking to visit. I figured I would meet you and see what you were like. But Minseok, you’re not like that, I realize that now. Will you… forgive me?”

Unbidden, he had put his arm around Minseok’s shoulder, angled his body so that he could look at him directly.

Shyly Minseok met his eyes. “There’s nothing for you to forgive. It’s me who should be apologizing. And today, well today I heard some rumors in town. Even the postman said some sly things when my back was turned, about you potentially having me investigated. He mentioned the lawyer’s name. I didn’t know anyone thought anything strange about me. Perhaps because I showed up so suddenly.”

“It’s a small community,” Lu Han agreed. “But Minseok, just know that I don’t care about any of that. I know you, and you aren’t like what people say you are. And you are perfectly free to stay as long as you want.”

“Really?” Minseok pulled away, his eyes asking in earnest, verifying if what Lu Han said was genuine.

“Really.”

Minseok hugged him. Lu Han gasped. It took the wind out of his lungs, and for a moment he wasn’t sure what had happened. There were arms wrapped around his shoulders and a nose dug into the side of his neck. Lu Han’s arms flailed uselessly for another few seconds before he cautiously brought them together high around Minseok’s waist.

“Min—”

“No, Lu Han. Don’t speak.” Minseok’s voice came out muffled.

“Okay.”

There was sniffling in his ear, a slightly wet cheek propped up next to Lu Han’s. His whole body protested the angle. He was overly aware of where they both sat, on Lu Han’s bed, pressed halfway together. Minseok had never been so close to him before and Lu Han was unaccustomed to such a level of skinship with strangers.

But no, Minseok wasn’t a stranger. Minseok was… Yixing’s widower. Whom Lu Han was now embracing on his bed.

He coughed. Minseok only burrowed more deeply in. Their knees touched, pressed painfully together. Lu Han was aware of the sensation Minseok’s lips on his neck. They ghosted across his skin, still moist from his bath and the water drops off his hair.

“Minseok,” he tried again.

This time Minseok acknowledged him. His arms loosened and he chest lifted away from Lu Han’s, arms still attached and their faces now dangerously close.

Those lips, Lu Han was suddenly aware. His skin tingled, his eyes shot downwards. Minseok was so close and Lu Han’s hands were still around his waist.

He could kiss him right now. He could kiss him right this moment and Lu Han had a feeling Minseok would not turn away.

Instead, he stood. Fingers itching to touch something, he flexed and unflexed them. Minseok stayed forlornly on his bed. His eyes followed Lu Han’s movements across the room as he fetched his towel from the closet floor and pulled it over his head to finish drying. It was a ploy to not look into Minseok’s deep and beautiful eyes.

“I’m glad we talked,” he said with an air of harsh finality.

He vaguely heard Minseok acknowledge. Seconds later, Lu Han was alone in his room reminiscing to himself how he had almost made advances on his cousin’s own spouse.

 

_Dear Han,_

_I tell you good news! Even as I know this may surprise you. I have gotten married! No doubt you’ll laugh to hear about this poor middle aged man’s heart, but as I had long suspected, I too was perfectly capable of falling in love… No bachelor’s heart for me after all! Minseok has been everything I never thought of finding in this life. We are already planning to return this September. I revel in the knowledge that my two favorite persons on this earth will shortly meet. Until then…_

 

Two weeks later, Mrs. Wu passed away.

Lu Han learned about it when an old neighbor popped in to spread the sad, sad news, share her condolences for Lu Han’s longtime housekeeper, and also probably steal a glance of Minseok for the gossip wheel. In the latter at least she was unsuccessful, but Lu Han watched her go with a stunned heart.

“Is something the matter?”

Lu Han jumped. In the two weeks since their awkward hugging experience in Lu Han’s bedroom, they had gone back to acting exactly the same way around each other, which is to say their lives continued as normal but with absolutely no opportunity to touch. Because Lu Han always moved away to shield himself from the remotest possibility of Minseok touching even his hand while passing a plate of salad.

He turned to look back. “Mrs. Wu… she… she died.” He still could hardly believe it. It was just a month ago she was in perfect health, zipping around corners in the manor with a basket of mending or tray of dishes. And she was, gone.

Minseok hummed sympathetically and put his hand on Lu Han’s shoulder. Lu Han didn’t toss it off.

“I’m so sorry. She was a truly sweet lady, from the little I knew her.”

“She was,” Lu Han agreed. Tears moistened the corners of his eyes. He excused himself as quickly as possible in order to find a quiet place to grieve. He thought of all the years she’d been a part of the household, taking of care of Yixing first, and then Yixing and Lu Han once he had joined the home. He and Yifan had snuck around since boyhood from her loving admonishments. He and… Oh, God. Yifan. Yifan just lost his mother too.

An hour later, and long before Lu Han honestly expected him, Yifan came storming through the front doors. It was barely midmorning. Lu Han was still home, refusing to work. Yifan found him sitting before the large fireplace in the morning room, an untouched cup of coffee sitting beside him.

“Where is he?!” Yifan demanded without preamble.

Lu Han jumped. “What?”

“Your _guest_.” Yifan practically sneered. “Minseok. Where is he?”

“I… I don’t know. He’s here somewhere. Why? Yifan, your mother… I heard this morning and I’m—”

“Don’t talk about my mother. You don’t get to talk about my mother after you brought _him_ to this place.”

Still Lu Han blubbered, his tongue tripping over words because, “What does that have to do with Minseok?”

Yifan scoffed and stalked all the way into the room. “Only everything. Seeing as how he’s the one who killed her!”

Two emotions shot suddenly down the back of Lu Han’s spine. The first was outraged anger and denial. The second was fear.

“What do you mean? Minseok didn’t… he couldn’t... Yifan you’re upset, you’re talking nonsense.”

Yifan barely gave him a chance to let the accusation sink in. “He killed her, I know it! She knew something, she found something in his room, and he killed her for it, Lu Han, _I know he did!_ ”

It was absolutely the wrong moment for Minseok to walk in. No doubt drawn by the sound of Yifan’s shouting, Minseok appeared in the doorway looked surprised, then stunned. Yifan rounded on him, and in a split second, before he could move, Lu Han lunged forward and grabbed him by the collar. He caught Yifan in the middle of a raging roar, one foot already in the air, and the two of them crashed to the ground.

Lu Han cried out when they landed. He rolled and clutched his hip. His elbow was bruised, he thought he might have fallen on top of Yifan’s back. Beside him Yifan was collapsed into a heap of limbs, but still in a rage. Minseok rushed forward to help, no doubt more shocked by the accidental collision than by Yifan’s words a few seconds before.

“Don’t touch me!” shouted Yifan with a snarl.

“Yifan, please, just think about this,” Lu Han pleaded. Minseok, turning from Yifan, tugged Lu Han back onto his feet. The two of them stood shakily holding onto one another, Lu Han feeling very winded and dazed. Yifan remained on the ground. He breathed heavily, and everywhere around his eyes were rimmed with red. He looked spent and showed no desire to get off the ground. Slowly though, his eyes leveled upwards and he stared back and forth between Minseok and Lu Han with absolute disgust.

“I know what I know, Lu Han, and if you haven’t come to realize that then it’s your loss, and maybe your head too.”

“Ok, Yifan, _what_ do you know exactly, huh?” Lu Han whispered angrily. “You can’t just accuse a person like that, Yifan, I know she was your mother but she was ill for a long time. I’m devastated too but that doesn’t change the fact that _you_ have gone nuts.”

Yifan stared at him, and laughed. It was an eery sound that sent chills all the way down into Lu Han’s gut, where it rattled.

“Fine. Fine, but it’s your head, Lu Han,” he repeated coldly.

Minseok trembled beside him. For his sake Lu Han pulled himself to his full height and glared daggers at the best friend he’d ever known.

“Walk out of this house, Yifan. While you still can.”

Slowly, languidly, Yifan stood up. He sniffed, but no made no other sound. Seconds later they heard the sound of the front door slamming behind him, followed by a deep, deep silence.

Lu Han traced his steps halfway into the front hall but made no effort to follow him. Minseok kept pace about five steps behind.

“Lu Han?” he said finally, his voice barely more than a whisper.

“Not now, Minseok, please. I think… I think I just need to go to bed.”

“Okay,” said his guest then, sadly and with an air of finality which Lu Han was unready to address. He slipped into bed vehemently denying that anything had happened. He thought of Yixing instead, or he tried to. His cousin, when Lu Han had first come to live with him, had had so much energy and life. He was a bachelor who morphed easily into the image of an ideal father, and Lu Han had loved him.

On the verge of sleep though, he could withhold his thoughts no more. He fell asleep thinking about Minseok, dreaming of Minseok. And when morning came he realized, he was not at ease.

Over the next few days Lu Han found himself avoiding Minseok more and more. Instead of eating breakfast together, he’d wake up earlier, then leave a plate for Minseok to find. He didn’t go home during the day when he was already out. And at night, unless he could somehow time things to where they missed each other entirely, their shared dinner hour was quiet, sullen, discussing only the barest details of their day in the shortest amount of words possible.

It didn’t take a genius to realize Lu Han’s suspicions, which he’d denied in front of Yifan, had indeed come back. He remembered the medications Yixing had been prescribed, how they matched the ones given to Mrs. Wu. And no matter how many times Lu Han told himself that to suspect Minseok of colluding with not one but two doctors, and one a local, was outrageous and would have taken a great deal of subterfuge to enact, he couldn’t help thinking maybe… maybe Minseok _could_ have done it.

It was obvious of course that Minseok knew of his doubts. After a few days of Lu Han not talking, he stopped trying to initiate conversation. His smiles became fewer, the stress lines along his forehead grew deeper. Lu Han didn’t look at him directly when he could help it, but when he did, even he had to admit that Minseok looked terrible. And that it was probably Lu Han’s fault.

One day, he disappeared altogether. Lu Han only realized it when there was nobody home at dinnertime. The house was dark but the car was still in the garage. Lu Han walked slowly throughout the manor, turning on lights, looking for Minseok but already knowing he wouldn’t find him there.

Except for a few accessories lying about his room, Minseok was gone. And Lu Han had to admit that while part of him was actually relieved, he was also deeply, deeply upset.

They spoke of him in town, the next time Lu Han drove in. The name _Minseok_ was whispered on everyone’s tongues and for the first time they let Lu Han overhear the things they were saying about him. That Minseok had been too strange, too quiet, that he’d never known quite how to talk to the shopkeepers and passersby. Somehow the knowledge of his marriage to Yixing had gotten around, though it remained only rumor. His name was now tagged with Lu Han’s, and Lu Han could not miss the curious, judgmental stares of the people he had once counted almost like family.

A week after Minseok’s disappearance, Yifan came back around. He spit one apology after another in Lu Han’s resolutely closed ears. He claimed he’d not been himself, that he had no right to make the accusations that he did.

Lu Han waved him away. Maybe forgiveness would come later.

Another letter arrived from Lawyer Do, and this one had Lu Han sitting on his bed with the paper crumpled between his fingers. It seemed the lawyer determined that all his suspicions _were_ indeed wrong. Both the illness of Minseok’s first wife Rachel, and Yixing’s, were in the end quite uncommon but not out of place. Minseok, according to those investigated by the lawyer, had been properly anxious and devoted to nursing each of them back to health. The last shred of suspicion vanished from Lu Han’s mind like a curse finally broken. By now though he knew it had happened too late.

“Minseok,” Lu Han whispered to an empty home. “Oh, God, Minseok, I’m so sorry…”

Then, one month later, in the middle of a winter storm, Minseok came back.

Lu Han heard him first, a soft knock on the back kitchen door. It was late and the power had gone out. Lu Han had lit and maintained two lanterns in the kitchen where he sat in front of the wood-burning stove, warming his hands and body as the snow and wind piled up outside.

The knock scared him. Nobody should be out in weather like that. But with that sound came a small flame of hope.

He scrambled to unlock the door, pulling it open with a great creak and accompanying gust of snow.

“Minseok!”

His onetime guest stood shivering on the porch. Lu Han grabbed him and pulled him inside, realizing only seconds later that he’ll pulled him right into his embrace. He kicked the door closed, but didn’t let go.

“Minseok, are you alright? Where have you been? Why are you even out in this storm? Minseok, I’m so glad you’re back!”

It took a while to get the full story out of him, but in between peeling away layers of frost covered coats and thrusting warm cups of tea into Minseok’s hand, Lu Han pieced together what had happened. Somewhere in this snow halfway down the long drive to the manor was a broken down rented vehicle with all of Minseok’s worldly possessions excepting the ones he’d left upstairs.

Minseok’s teeth chattered as he spoke. “I, I didn’t know if you’d even let me back in the house. I had to come though. My things, the ones I left… Lu Han, I was so upset when I ran away I just threw things into my bag and hired a cab.”

Lu Han held his hands, warming his frigid fingers between his own palms.

“I’m so sorry, Minseok, you can’t believe how sorry I felt. I chased you away because I couldn’t get a handle on my own dumb mind.”

Minseok shook his head. “You don’t have to apologize. I know, I can guess what this looks like. Everywhere I go, nothing ever works out. It’s completely natural you would think… that your friends would think…”

“They were lies, Minseok, you don’t have to try and explain things. I let appearances talk for me instead of asking you directly, and when I did ask you I was blunt and stupid.”

In the darkness, bearing one lantern between them, they crept upstairs to Minseok’s old bedroom.

“I have to show you this,” said Minseok. He fumbled in the dark until he bumped into the dresser, pulling something out of a drawer. Lu Han stood next to him holding up the lantern which illuminated a bundle of cloth. Delicately, Minseok unwrapped the parcel which revealed a framed portrait of Minseok and a beautiful woman. A smaller, unframed picture of Yixing and Minseok was stuck to the glass. Minseok removed it, smiled, and set it aside. Then he stared at the one with the woman. By their outfits it had clearly been taken on their wedding day.

“This is what Yifan’s mother found when she came into my room.”

“Rachel?” asked Lu Han.

Minseok nodded. “Yes. This was Rachel. I don’t think she realized that Rachel was… already gone. She assumed I must have had a wife somewhere in another place, and here I was pretending to have been Yixing’s husband too.” He sighed. “I wanted to have this other photo framed too, but I hadn’t the time.”

Lu Han plucked the photo of Yixing with his arm around Minseok’s shoulder. The pose was more casually done. They both looked so happy. Something pricked at Lu Han’s conscience until Minseok took the photo, placed it back on top of the framed picture, and set them both back inside the drawer.

Minseok took his hand and said, “They’re in the past now, Lu Han. Let’s put them away now. I want, no I need to let them go. Can you forgive me for causing you such grief? For inviting myself into your home? I caused so many misunderstandings so I will understand if you want me to go. I just came to get these things. Tomorrow I will—”

“No,” interrupted Lu Han.

Minseok turned to him, eyebrows slightly raised.

Lu Han swallowed heavily before continuing his speech. “I want you to stay.”

Minseok looked at him with disbelief radiating from his eyes. “Do you really mean that?”

“Yes.”

They needed no further coaxing than the cold weather and Minseok’s words of relief to get under the covers together. For a bed that only comfortably fit one, Lu Han was desperate to make it work. When Minseok put up no effort to stop him from stripping the rest of his clothes, he took off his own. And just like that, with their skin pressed together, Lu Han kissed and touched him, was kissed in return, until the lantern burned down and just the darkness remained.

“I think I love you, Kim Minseok,” whispered Lu Han as he finally closed his eyes.

Minseok was halfway asleep, but he did murmur something that sounded vaguely pleasurable. That plus the arm which wrapped itself tight around Lu Han’s bare waist was all he needed to sleep happy.

 

 

 

  
Two months later, the winter weather had not let up, the snows grew deeper, and the wood pile shrank. But Lu Han was still happy. The air of his new love had not dwindled in any single respect. He awoke every morning in Minseok’s arms, they brewed coffee and drank it together over breakfast, read books together on the oversized loveseat in the library in front of a roaring fire because it was too cold to go out. Minseok cooked him lunch, and also dinner. And at night they slid back into the same bed, Lu Han’s now because it was bigger, and Lu Han fell fitfully to sleep until the next day where they repeated it all again while awaiting the spring.

“I can’t wait for you to see it.” Lu Han sniffed. “The springtime here is so beautiful. Words cannot do it justice, Minseok, you’ll just have to experience it yourself.”

“I will! I will!” Minseok laughed and hugged him from behind where they spooned on the couch. “I can’t wait to see it with you.”

He hugged him a little tighter then, and pressed a kiss right underneath Lu Han’s ear. He squirmed, but didn’t pull away. It was barely mid afternoon and they had the rest of the day to do nothing. Lu Han could stay here forever. Unfortunately, his head was pounding and his forehead burned.

Minseok pulled away and frowned. He put the back of his hand to Lu Han’s neck. Compared to the heat radiating there, his fingers felt like icicles.

“Has your fever come back already, Han? Let me up, I’ll bring you your medicine now.”

 

 

End.


End file.
